


Something Old, Something New, Something Bubbly, Something Blue

by TempusNoKitsune



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Bathing/Washing, Bubble Bath, Connor is not a happy boy, Cute, Detectives, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Nudity, Some suggestive stuff, Swearing, first bath for the android boy, he has feelings about mess, new experiences, so that's a pretty given, the fic has Hank in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 14:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20427329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempusNoKitsune/pseuds/TempusNoKitsune
Summary: It’s a routine run in, more or less. They’re sent over to a sub-par apartment building outside of the city for a noise complaint and possible minor drug bust. To be honest, it’s almost insultingly underwhelming with what Connor can do. Hank snorted at his indignance when they first got in the car, but let him indulge in a bit of...whining.In which a routine arrest goes wrong, and Connor has to experience something new...





	Something Old, Something New, Something Bubbly, Something Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my piece for the HankCon Reverse BB!
> 
> I got an awesome piece called Bathtime Fun made by the wonderful MaxImproving!
> 
> Here's a link to the tumblr post with the images -  Tumblr Post with Art!   
Here's a twitter post as well!

It’s a routine run in, more or less. They’re sent over to a sub-par apartment building outside of the city for a noise complaint and possible minor drug bust. To be honest, it’s almost insultingly underwhelming with what Connor can do. Hank snorted at his indignance when they first got in the car, but let him indulge in a bit of...whining. Looking back on it as they get out of the car and head into the elevator, it’s a bit embarrassing really. Connor wings his hands a bit as he thinks it over, opens his mouth to apologise for his actions when Hank grabs his hands to still them.

“Quit doing that will ‘ya. Nothing to be nervous about here Con.”

“I’m not nervous!”

Hank gives a breathy laugh and grins at him as his cheeks pink and his hands fall down to his sides in their natural and neutral position. His chain is being yanked, and he can’t be upset because Hank knows him too well...and now he’s out of his own head over some silly somethings. The elevator dings as the doors open and Connor leads the way up to the apartment door before rapping on it loudly. 

“Detroit Police!” 

There’s a shuffling noise behind the door, the sound of something heavy thudding to the floor, and someone making a sort of squeaking noise. No one comes to the door. 

Connor shoots a look over to his partner, and Hank give him a little nod to confirm further action. He knocks again.

“DPD, open up!”

More shuffling, scraping- Connor takes a step back, calculates, and whips his foot up and breaks the handle and locking mechanism clean off. The door swings in as though of its own volition now, and Connor holds out an arm to keep Hank from walking in first. It’s immediately evident that they’ve got a runner by the mess of overturned furniture and slid open window. He doesn’t hesitate.

“Connor!” Hank yells after him. They both know that he’s not going to stop, but it may be the principal of the thing that still has Hank yelling at him even after so many times of the same thing.

He vaults through the window and begins an even jaunt up the fire escape towards the roof. It’s too far to the ground for the individual to have jumped, and it would have taken long enough to get down to the ground that the stairs would have still been vibrating and Connor would have most definitely seen them. It’s easy enough to take the metal stairs two at a time.

There’s a hasty scuffling up on the rooftop and Connor speeds up just a bit and skips the last set of stairs to grab at the roof line and pull himself up and over. The individual has stumbled and fallen onto the rough rooftop and begins scooching back upon seeing him. Connor trudges forwards slowly, holding his hands up placatingly.

“We’re not going to hurt you unless we need to. Just come calmly and it’s unlikely that you spend anything more than just a-”

Of course, the calm and collected approach isn't nearly as effective as one might hope. The runner pushes themselves quickly up onto their feet and takes off once again in the other direction, pushing off in a dead sprint to the edge of the roof and back towards another even roof on the other side. 

They’re human and the jump is going to be a bit of a reach for them given the rough estimate of the distance without accessing a remote geograph. This should be Connor’s easy in, but against the odds the human still hops the edge leaving Connor to haplessly reach out and yell after them to no effect. He’s able to launch himself out just after them, arms extended as though to grab onto them. The how exactly of what he was going to do to keep them from getting hurt in the potential fall wasn’t as clearly thought out as it certainly could have been. This was something that he had found to come with the price of deviancy. While such a thing was generally and usually un-consequential, at split moment instances such as this, there's a particular sort of envy of his machine form- though not enough to make him miss it really. 

The most ironic thing is that the human manages to catch onto the edge of the other roof, hands latching in death grips on the small parapet and hefting themselves up with some effort. Connor, who had made his own jump with the intention of being just behind the human enough to grab onto them and avoid causing any direct damage himself, finds his launch landing him a bit shy of the wall and dropping down far too quickly for comfort. It’s a long way down, and direct impact with the concrete at this height would no doubt leave him with broken parts. Feet, ankles, shins, knees, thighs, likely hips and possibly up to shoulders and head if he’s smashed back into the pavement. There’s only so much that one can do whilst in the process of falling really, and that is, to slow and dampen and potential damage in whatever way possible.

He brushes forward against the wall- it’s rough exposed brick and fairly uncomfortable, but the friction between his hands and feet and the brick are enough to slow him incrementally even if they do get scratched up.

It’s not until he’s forcefully deposited into the bin that he notices his trajectory. A brown pulpy goo splashes up around him. It’s viscous and clings to his body as he sinks down to his chest. Connor stands still in something akin to shock, led blinking in a flurry of yellow and red as he tries to process.

“Connor!” 

The yell comes from the top of the building behind him, the one that he jumped off of. He twists a bit and immediately regrets it as the sludge works its way further under his clothes and cakes itself up against his skin. With this turn he’s able to make out the shape of the bin that he’s in only to find that he’s more than halfway submerged in a garbage can. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly for a moment as he calms himself, and then looks up.

“Down here, Hank!”

A sliver head of hair peeks down over the edge of the roof and pauses for a moment before Connor hears the tell tale signs of stifled laughter. He attempts to glare up at the man, but it’s not terribly effective, what with the brownish substance dripping down from where it had splashed up onto his face. That being said, he decides rather kindly to ignore the laughter and work at removing himself from the bin. The rusted metal creaks under his weight as he heaves himself up and over the thin edge and lands with a wet slap onto the pavement. 

He winces, screwing up his face as he wipes away the biggest globs of deteriorated materials. Though he knows that it’s nigh impossible for the sludge to seep in through his seams, but he feels as though it is anyway, leaving him with the odd need to shiver as his body makes a disgusting squelching sound when he walks out towards the nearest road and back around the building to Hank’s car.

He’s still coated in a healthy layer of muck, and stands miserably off to the side. That’s what he gets for never pushing Hank to update his car. He’s thoroughly self chastised and unhappy by the time that Hank shows up, looking far too happy for his liking.

“You’re not getting in my car like that.”

Connor glares at him, a flat sort of machine stare that he’s reverted himself to in a sort of useless attempt to distance himself for the situation- it’s not working, but he;s not going to stop whilst Hank is still looking like the cat that caught the canary. 

Hank pops open the trunk and gestures broadly towards it with a twitch to the corner of his mouth.

“Oughtta be a towel or tarp in here, otherwise I’d get started on the walking thing.”

Connor refuses to delight the man with any sort of response and huffily tears apart the already messy trunk, shooting dirty looks off to the side every time that Hank dares to make any sort of sound in protest until he’s able to unearth a relatively whole tarp. He whips it out and goes to wait by the door until Hank deigns to unlock the car.

“Con…”

He doesn’t answer. No, he’s still far too miffed for that. Even if he did answer, he’d likely regret it later, so he leaves it at complete ignorance until Hank lets out a long sigh and unlocks the door so that he can set about fixing up a way to keep the seeping mess from dirtying the interior of the car too much. 

The ride is excruciating. Usually Connor can’t quite get his mind to stop running- both a blessing and a curse. Now, however, he’s having trouble focusing on anything but the layer of muck. He’s been in a myriad of situations since his activation. He’s gotten dirty before, no doubt. However, this stewed and steeped conglomeration of deterioration, oils and water is leaving him far more uncomfortable and ashamed than any other minute mess up could have been. It’s worse that Hank had been there to witness it. He’ll never hear the end of it. 

He can’t get out of the car fast enough really. Despite usually being the first one in the house anyway, today he’s a bit ahead of the jump, wanting desperately to shed his heavily inundated clothing and pull on a nice clean jumper before snuggling up with Sumo- and _ not Hank - _ on the couch until he feels better.

“Hold on there Mr. Stompy.” Hank says after him as he all but throws himself out of the car. “You can’t just go in the house like that, you’re still...dripping trash everywhere.”

“Hank-”

“I’m not gonna keep you from gettin' inside, honey. I know how much you want to get out of those clothes.”

Connor’s shoulder hitch up, getting ready for a fight that he should know better than to think they’re actually going to have. Hank already has on his softer, “at home voice” on, even if his eyes are still dancing with laughter at Connor’s particular situation. 

“I’m going to put the tarp down on the floor, and you’re going to go straight into the bathroom and get undressed and in the tub.”

“What- the tub? Hank, I don’t need to-”

“Shower like a human, yeah Con, you’ve said that before, but you’ve also never been covered in…” The man makes a gesture to his body a couple of times as he searches for a word, “shit.”

He blows out the simulation of a harsh breath, Led spinning once before he gives in with a small nod. Who knows? Maybe a bath will make him feel better? More him and less becoming a mud monster with every passing minute?

Connor turns and pulls away the tarp from his artful tucking around the passenger seat and holds it out to Hank, with only a small bit of contempt hanging from his fingertips as well.

Hank raises his eyebrows in a way that says he notices, but it leaves his lips upturned in a way that not only says he doesn’t mind, but that he’s still enjoying all of this far too much. He has a moment where he very seriously considers dropping the tarp and...actually.

He’s been spending all of this time learning more about how to be human, how to develop his personality, how to make his own choices, all supported by the man in front of him. Well...

Connor steps forward with the tarp and Hank holds out his hands to take it away only for Connor to drop it at the very last minute and step forward to envelop the man in a tight an unforgiving hug. 

“Augh! Connor!”

A sort-of laugh escapes him as he very deliberately rubs their chests together, spreading the muck between them, and thoroughly over Hank’s glaringly patterned shirt. 

“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” Hank tries to sound stern but it comes out with a heavy dose of amusement and fond exasperation.

Connor steps back to admire his handiwork and nods with an approving sort of smirk before flinging open the door. Sumo comes barreling out, but he’s old enough now that he doesn’t try to jump up anymore, thankfully, as that would mean that not only would Hank and Connor need a good wash, but they’d be dealing with a 170 lb dirty dog as well.

He throws out the earlier dismissed tarp in a haphazard way that covers the main entryway well enough. Enough that they won’t have much cleaning to do later anyway. The main thing now is to get into Hank’s tiny full bath.

“I’m gonna have to burn this shirt.” Hank complains from behind him and Connor just shoots him A Look. Hank pushes his shoulders so that he stumbles a bit towards the bathroom door and he very nearly turns to push back, but Connor learned the hard way that he couldn’t exactly control all of his strength at all times which had ended up with Hank tumbling over the back of the couch. It led to a rather nasty bruise, an upturned sofa, and a nearly hour long laughing fit between the two of them.

“I don’t think anyone is going to mourn the loss of that except for you.” Connor teases before opening the bathroom door wide and shuffling in, nose scrunching up at his disastrous looking reflection. 

Hank pushes him again. “Go on princess. Strip down, I’ll get the water going.”

Connor purses his lips at his human but goes to remove his shirt all the less. He’s never actually seen Hank work the bath bit of the shower-bath combo, but it’s no more complicated than the water tap at the sink, except for being a good bit larger.

“Hank…” The man in question plops himself down on the thin rim of the “tub,” leaned over at something of an odd angle with his forearm resting underneath the water flow to test the temperature. “You do realise that the tub is hardly big enough for one of us, right?”

Stormy bule eyes look over at him, one eyebrow arched high over the other, with a sly sort of smirk tilting up his mouth.

“Uh-huh, and you said my bed was too small too for-”

“Hank!”

“But we made do, didn’t we? I’m sure we’ll figure something out. Aren’t you supposed to be like the most advanced sort of supercomputer in the world or something?”

Connor has the overwhelming urge to flip him off, but he’d like to think that he’d above that- he’s absolutely not above that, but he does like to think so sometimes - and instead kneels on the floor to start unbuttoning Hank’s shirt for him.

“Eager to get me naked?”

Connor rolls his eyes. “Eager to get rid of this muck.” He slides the shirt down and onto the floor. “The nakedness is just a bonus, really.” 

Hank snorts and stops up the tub so it begins to fill with steamy hot water, pouring some mildly scented body wash under the spout, leaving a cloud of bubbles to begin to form.

“Well then,” The man pushes Connors shoulders back slightly, “Stand up. I think I should get the chance to return the favour and have myself a nice view, don’t you think?”

Connor rolls his eyes, but stands up none-the-less, enjoying himself by running his hands through Hank’s hair, messing it up rather nicely as his pants are undone and pulled down to the floor. He lets out a soft hum when gentle kisses are placed on either side of his hips, smiling when they graduate up to his stomach, and pulling Hank’s head back by the hair when he starts to get distracted.

“Bath’s full.”

Hank grumbles something unsavory under his breath but lets go of his tentative hold on Connor’s waist and leans back to shut off the water. There’s a thin curtain of steam rising from the water, Hank likes his showers hot enough to pink his skin, so it makes since that his choice in bath would be the same. 

“Alright, in.” Hank gestures rather broadly at the small tub and Connor just stares for a moment. 

“I hope you realise how ridiculous this is going to be.”

“Yep, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

“You would.”

Hank shoots him a grin and he makes sure to hit him with his knees on “accident” as he drops himself into the bath with the spout to his back. He pulls up his knees so that he’s more or less in a half ball before Hank drops himself in with a splash. The man stretches out his legs on either side of Connor’s body, easily taking up the majority of the room in the little tub. Connor flicks his knee and grins at the responding flinch.

“You’re uh, still-” Hank leans forward and rubs at a messy brown spot on Connor’s shoulder, but the muck only flakes off just a little bit, “covered in the stuff.”

“What?” Connor looks down at his own body and starts to rub furiously at the darkened spots, but there’s only a handful of mess that drops away with the soapy water.

“Maybe you oughtta turn off your skin thingy.”

“What? No!”

“Why not?”

“I-” Connor opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, “I don’t...it’s-”

“Beautiful Con.”

“...what?”

“It’s beautiful, that’s what it is. You’re beautiful, whether you look like a human or not. Now turn off your goddamn skin and get that gross shit off of you.”

Chocolatey brown eyes just stare back into blue for a moment, flicker down to the water, then back up to blue before the android’s synth skin slowly melts away. This time, instead of Connor going to rub rather viciously at his own body, Hank leans out of the tub to snatch up a washcloth. He dips it into the water before scooching forward and closing in Connor impossibly further, enough for him to drop his forehead onto the man’s shoulder as gentle hands begin to rub at his chassis. It’s almost uncomfortably sweet and calming.

“You’re awful.” He mutters against the warm skin beneath his mouth.

“I love you too, Con.”

Connor smiles and nuzzles against Hank’s neck as all of their mess washes slowly away.


End file.
